


facade

by godcomplexfics (godtiercomplex)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 23:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiercomplex/pseuds/godcomplexfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But then, who is Xehanort to talk about anyone being straightforward with anything? He's been having weird visions lately, has a plan in mind of his own that he barely understands. Instructions, almost, left on his memory of the steps he has to take. And one of them says: <i>Keep Eraqus close. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	facade

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With You Tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852327) by [Chaotic_Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Dawn/pseuds/Chaotic_Dawn). 



> Wow, imagine my surprise after the video came out at E3 and I wrote like half of this that day and then was like 'no one will be into this like I am' and then I came on here and there's fics for this ship. 
> 
> I of course can't write anything nice about these two.
> 
> Edit 10/05/2016: I just realized I forgot to credit who inspired this! (I think...? I can't remember at this point lmao!)

They put the game away, and Eraqus suggests a sparing match to match the mental fight they've undergone. It's Xehanort's third time winning that morning, so he agrees if only because he realizes that his friend wants a break. He wishes he would be more straightforward in asking for what he wants.

But then, who is Xehanort to talk about anyone being straightforward with anything? He's been having weird visions lately, has a plan in mind of his own that he barely understands. Instructions, almost, left on his memory of the steps he has to take. And one of them says: _Keep Eraqus close_.

 

Fighting with Eraqus is second nature. They blend and mix well with one another. If he is dark then Eraqus is light. If he can’t stop himself from wandering away from the Land Departure, then Eraqus is the obedient pupil who stays. It fits, they fit. They make sense together more than they could apart, but Eraqus doesn’t see it that way. He thinks in a way that Xehanort can’t understand completely. When he invites Eraqus to come with him, instead the other boy just shakes his head, and holds his hand, and asks him to stay. But Xehanort couldn’t even stay for his family (couldn’t stay on that island, refused to be trapped, refused _refused_ to let anyone hold him back) so he knows he won’t _stay_ no matter how grey and unending Eraqus’s eyes gets.

 

But he always comes back. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. Because he’s stuck on grey eyes, and an unceasing facade of politeness, aside from when they fight. Then, the facade drops, and it’s just the clang of their blades, and he likes to imagine that this is how it would feel if they fucked. All careful aggression, and practiced movements, two people coming together who know each other intimately in the worst and best ways. He doesn’t have this with Yen Sid or his master. Just Eraqus, always just Eraqus.

 

He spits out blood, and Eraqus calls it draw, unsummoning his keyblade.

“I’m not done yet,” Xehanort says.

“Well, _I_ am,” Eraqus says, “C’mon, you’re bleeding, let’s get you patched up.”

He mutters something about potions, but Eraqus ignores him and takes his hand. He’s always doing that, and he means nothing by it, and Xehanort would hate it, if he didn’t love it. If he wasn’t fascinated by Eraqus’s rejection of his moves on him, and how he then turned around and insisted on being his friend.

“That might be how you heal yourself out there, but that’s only a temporary fix.” Eraqus lectures him, even as he pulls him into the infirmary and starts cleaning him up. Xehanort lets him in amusement, not because he likes to get fussed at, but because of the look of concentration on Eraqus’s face as he does so.

“What about your wounds?”

“Well, you got me pretty good in my ribs, so if you could hold the bandage steady for me, I can wrap it.”

“I can do that,” he says, instead of pointing out that this will let him see Eraqus’s bare chest. And really, if he loses control that’s not his fault.

“Good,” Eraqus presses a bandage against his forehead and studies his handiwork, “Did I miss any place?”

Xehanort’s heart aches, and he almost points that out, but instead shakes his head. Eraqus turns around and takes off his jacket and shirt and he honestly wears far, far too many clothes. Xehanort readies the large bandages while Eraqus doesn’t turn around, and holds his hands out. He can see the bruise, a nasty purple curling around his left side, and he wonders how much worse it is in front. He starts moving around him, and Eraqus holds the wrap in place as he moves.

He cannot help but think about how he would like to mark Eraqus in a more permanent way, a way that screams out ‘Xehanort’s-Don’t Touch’. He’d like to carve his initials into his skin, if only Eraqus would agree to be his. Something itches in the back of his mind to do so regardless. But, he has respect for Eraqus and his free will. That’s why he loves him.

“Thanks,” Eraqus says after they’re done wrapping the bandage around him a few times. Xehanort steps in closer, and ties it off. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he could kiss him, he honestly could kiss him. He doesn’t.

“Master wants me to convince you to stay until the Mark of Mastery. After that, if you pass, he says you can do anything you want.”

The Mark of Mastery is in another few weeks, that shouldn’t be too hard, but Xehanort hates being stuck here for longer than a week. So many worlds to explore, he can’t help it.  

“What will you give me if I stay?” Xehanort doesn’t step out of Eraqus’s personal space, so he can see the moment his mind is made up. His grey eyes flash steel.

“Myself. That’s what you want isn’t it?” He doesn’t sound scared. He sounds indifferent. Xehanort hates it. He wants so much more than that from Eraqus. More than the little falsehoods and pretenses he keeps up.

“I want you, laid bare to me, all your secrets exposed, with none of your pretenses that you don’t want me back.”

Eraqus takes a step back, and clenches his fists, “Only if you promise to stay.”

“Keep me occupied at night and I will.”

“And during the day? During our days off?”

“Hold my hand, if you want. Play chess with me. Spar with me.” _Fuck me so hard the previous night I can’t leave the bed._

But he doesn’t say that.

Eraqus seems to take his meaning regardless, and relaxes a bit, “Keep you prisoner here. I don’t want to keep you as my prisoner, I just--”

“Am trying to strike a bargain with me. Well, it’s struck. Are you backing out?”

Eraqus takes a step forward, and another, and backs Xehanort up against a wall.

“If you break our bargain, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Oh? Now there’s a threat.”

“It’s a promise.” Eraqus kisses him, and his mouth still tastes faintly of blood, but Eraqus is kissing him. It is indeed a promise, even as his split lip aches. The kiss is over before he can touch Eraqus as he would like. “Do you promise?”

He looks at him, and promises.

 

Night sees him welcoming Eraqus into his bare room, and Xehanort pressing him against the door. Xehanort tugs down his shirt collar and bites him, hard, on the junction of his neck and shoulder. Eraqus gives a frustrated sigh, as Xehanort sucks a bruise against the skin like he’s longed to do for so long. Eraqus just lets him, and he wants him to fight back. He wants to know what he likes and doesn’t like. But for now, he studies his handiwork blossoming against his sun-kissed skin.  

“How did you see tonight going?” Eraqus asks curiously, and that’s good. That’s showing that he cares, that he’s dropping his facade of indifference.

It would so easy for Eraqus to just lay there while Xehanort fucked him. But he doesn’t want easy. Getting Eraqus into his bedroom, into his bed has taken far too long for easy.

“You fucking me,” Xehanort says, and Eraqus makes a face. He even blushes a bit.

“Do you have to be so _vulgar_ about it?”

“I’m being honest.” _Unlike_ you, he doesn’t say. Eraqus sighs. Xehanort softens his tone, “I want you. I always have.”

Eraqus _shivers_ , and with a low voice says, “I know.”

He doesn’t say he wants Xehanort back, but actions speak louder than words as he shrugs off his shirt. Xehanort backs up long enough for the shirt to fall to the ground. Now, he can see the mark he left on Eraqus clearly in the low moonlight. His ribs are still wrapped, but Xehanort resists the urge to check to see if the bruise has spread more or worsened.

“Does that hurt?” he asks instead as he places gentle hands around Eraqus’s waist.

“I could ask the same of you,” Eraqus glances up at his forehead, and then looks down at his lips when Xehanort laughs.

“No worse than usual.” He doesn’t say that no matter how much Eraqus marks him up during their fights, it’s never enough for him. He doesn’t reveal that sometimes late at night, when there’s just him and the darkness, its all he can do to keep from touching himself, feeling each bruise and rocking his cock against his palm. He has always wanted the real thing.

“I don’t bang you up that badly,” Eraqus protests. And it’s true. Eraqus is careful with his hits, even in a spar. He has control, that Xehanort would envy if he didn’t have patience. They balance each other out, could do so much more together, if only Xehanort could convince him of it.

“No, you don’t,” And he sounds regretful, and Eraqus considers him for a long moment. Xehanort pulls him to bed before he can think more and regret their bargain. He pulls out a vial and presses it into Eraqus’s open hand. It had taken him three trips to the outside worlds to find it-- _just in case_ \--and now it shall at last be opened. Eraqus breaks the seal.

“This is. . . ?” he asks with hesitance.

“To make it easier for me.”

Eraqus considers that, “You’re prepared.” He caps the vial again, and holds out a hand to Xehanort, who takes it. “Alright.”

Xehanort undresses himself, and Eraqus watches him. He can’t see his face in the dimness of his room, but he can imagine what it must look like. What he hopes it looks like.

When he is done, Eraqus kisses his bandaged hand, and the gesture is so tender and sweet that Xehanort loses his nerve for a moment. He doesn’t want sweet, he doesn’t want tender. Eraqus isn’t sweet, and he isn’t tender. He’s light. All harsh angles, and cocky attitude. All preconceived notions of what it means to be a Keyblade Wielder of light.

He doesn’t want this kiss that almost feels like an apology. He grips his black hair and pulls him into the kind of kiss he expects from Eraqus. A kiss like when they spar.

He gets his wishes, and Eraqus isn’t gentle as he presses him into the bed and kisses him. He kisses like it’s the first and last time. He kisses like it’s a farewell. But to what Xehanort doesn’t know, and doesn’t want to consider. (Their friendship, perhaps.)

Xehanort shows him how to open him up, presses Eraqus’s fingers inside of him and rocks against them as Eraqus watches him with something like awe (or maybe fear, concern).

Eraqus gets drawn into his world, and he never wants to let him go as he holds him close once he’s inside of him.

“That doesn’t hurt does it?” Eraqus asks in a low voice, keeping his voice low even as Xehanort doesn’t bother.

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” It does hurt, but in a good way, a way he could die with, a way in which he’d want to die. Eraqus wouldn’t understand, won’t understand until it’s his turn to be beneath Xehanort. They move together, and it’s so much like how they spar, carefully flowing from one movement to the next, a dance all of their own, that Xehanort could cry. Instead he kisses him, bites him, leaves his mark on him again and again. He does all of this, and Eraqus doesn’t complain. He just keeps thrusting away, breath falling out heavily, and sweat dripping down his lithe body. Xehanort loves him.

Eraqus does not love him.

 

They keep it up for the few weeks it takes for the exam to come to pass. Afterwards, they are all named masters in their own right. Eraqus inherits their master’s post, and Xehanort gets an ancient blade. He becomes a Seeker. He starts seeking out the truth, losing himself further, never returning back to the Land of Departure unless Eraqus calls for him (Eraqus rarely calls) and when he returns, sometimes they fuck, more times they fight. They fight about the truths that Xehanort is uncovering, and they fight about the abandonment both of them feels. Xehanort isn’t sure who feels more betrayed.

They fight once, when he reveals his intentions to make a X blade.

“Are you mad?” Eraqus asks, and he’s lost the fragile beauty of youth, and is older now. He’s wiser now, and there’s no promises to be made any longer. They’ve gone different paths in life. Eraqus has chosen light, and Xehanort has chosen balance. Too much light is stiffling, drowning out the darkness. The worlds aren’t in balance and he has to make things right.

That’s what he tells himself at least. But he’s been having dreams again, and no longer do they tell him to keep Eraqus close--but rather to keep an eye on him. Eraqus is a threat. To the balance and to Xehanort’s goals. He wants to start the war again. He leaves his mark on Eraqus instead, gives him something to remember him by always.

 

Of course he still wants Eraqus, but Eraqus has never wanted anything more from him than friendship and a promise to behave. He won’t be bound any longer. He takes on his own apprentice like Eraqus takes on his own.

 

When Ventus _breaks_ he hatches a plan. He leaves the boy in the care of Eraqus as a falsehood of his own. A promise that he’s seen the errors of his way and will do better. The young apprentices of Eraqus hold promise, and he’s proud of them. Eraqus loves them in a way he’s never loved Xehanort, and if Xehanort didn’t already have a plan that starts taking shape the moment he sees Terra, he would have killed Terra and Aqua both.

But his body is old. He is an old man, and he doesn’t want to die. He wants to live to see it, he wants to see it all. He wanted Eraqus to be there with him, but now he is nothing more than a hindrance. Now, Xehanort actively plots his former lover’s death all the while playing nice. All the while, staying away from the Land of Departure until the next Mark of Mastery exam. He teaches Vanitas instead, makes the boy into the perfection that Ventus could only dream of, and sets him loose upon the worlds after infecting Terra.

Then it’s just a matter of letting the pieces fall into place.

 

And he finds, when he goes to slide the blade into Eraqus’s back, the man in pain, half dead already, that there is no love left in his heart for him. There is only victory at defeating what was the remaining obstacle in his way. He destroys everything that Eraqus tried to protect, and he wins.

He takes Terra’s body, and finds that it is quite to his liking. He finds that he will win. He will see what comes after, the end of it all, the fight for balance.

 

Until, he becomes aware that he is no longer just fighting Terra for control of the body. Someone else has taken refuge in his body.

Someone else like, “Eraqus, you sly fox,” and the game is back on, lasting across the years as Eraqus offers the last of his dying will to keep Terra strong and hold Xehanort back.

 

But of course, his former friend-lover-obsession's power won’t last forever. And the day will come when Xehanort suppresses Terra and Eraqus, the both of them, once and for all.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I always fall for villains? Why was my first ever Kingdom Hearts fanfic about a villain?


End file.
